The Reunion
by battlebornxx
Summary: What if for one night the brain, the basketcase, the athlete, the princess, and the criminal, come all together for just one night for one special high school reunion? Confusion, lost feelings, and teenage nostalgia comes into the picture. Maybe adulthood isn't all what their sixteen year old selves thought that it was ought to be. (Rated T for language & Adult Content).
1. The Brain

**A/N: Okaaaay, I know I wrote 'The Reunion' before, but I decided to rewrite the whole thing. Looking back on my old TR story, I decided how much I didn't really like my writing style for then. But I think this is a whole lot better. This first five chapters are just going to be explaining where they are at now and how they have ended up here. This here is going to be about Brian! Ugh he's such a cutie! I know it's kind of long, but it kind of has to be, right? ;-) I hope you all enjoy! **

Four A.M and miserable, Brian thought quietly to himself as he stared up at the bedroom ceiling that him and his wife have shared for the past twenty three years. Of course, his beautiful wife, Debbie, was fast asleep in her beauty slumber. Yet, Brian could never find himself going to sleep these days. Already at the scary age of 46, he found himself being more bored than he have ever been bored before.

He had a wonderful job, of course. A job that paid him a little too good, which he for sure wasn't complaining about. He had a beautiful wife, a former _model_, in fact. Except now, she was a very famous politician at running for state governor or town executor. She had a talent for words, and a very good talent for looks. She had curly blonde hair that was _always _permed and styled in the neatest way possible. Brian use to think about how boys love how their girlfriend's hair blows in the wind. Well, Brian has never saw that with Debbie. Never.

She had cat like blue eyes, but in a very attractive way. She had exotic looking lips, and very defined cheekbones. She had just enough curves in all of the right places. To Brian, she looked just as beautiful as they day he first met her. Which was, believe it or not, in the Niagara Falls area. He saw her sitting on a huge rock, looking so bored and so unentertained. He couldn't help but notice at how beautiful she was, just sitting there.

And believe it or not, she pucked up the courage to go up and talk to her. And of course, his opening line was something like, "Did you know that Niagara Falls is one of the top waterfalls in the world?" That was probably the most obvious question a person could ever ask. Even Brian, who was known as _Brain_, should have thought of a better question than something as stupid as that! But for some odd reason, he didn't.

But she ended up smiling, and said yes. She took him by surprise, and he liked it. For the next three days, the two were inseparable. Debbie talked about her family and how she loved to model. Her family was loaded, and she described how she spent about a month at Niagara Falls every single year and how much she just hated it.

When Brian's vacation was over, Debbie gave him her address and her phone number so that they could stay in touch. Brian was disappointed that he was leaving so soon, and thought that he would never see her again. He even kissed her before he had to leave. And yes, on the lips. None of that wimpy on the cheek kind of thing.

But surprisingly, the two stayed in touch. They talked over the phone and wrote to each other until Brian and his family went over to Niagara Falls again each summer. Which was now, his favorite vacation of all time. Since Debbie would always be there.

They got married right after Brian graduated college. He got a degree in Banking and Business. Debbie didn't want to go to college, since she already had an amazing career in modeling. But her parents made her. And there she got her degree in politics and debate. So, the two celebrated by eloping to go and marry.

Brian bought her the nicest house in the nicest town of their state. Which happened to be four hours from his original hometown, to his luck. It was a beautiful white house with pale blue shutters. It was the perfect house to live in and start a family in, such as Debbie had said.

Debbie was terrified to have children, and was so focused on her modeling, that she began to not want any like before. More and more, she began to worry so much about her weight. Even though she was barely 120 pounds, the only thing that went through her head was _fat, fat, fat. _

She ended up starving herself and making herself throw up. Brian finally caught her in the act one time, and forced her to quit modeling if it was going to come to this. Debbie promised not to do it again, so Brian gave her one more chance. But, it did happen again. Brian this time made Debbie quit modeling and go to a rehab clinic for anorexia and bulimia for her own good. But nothing seemed to work.

Brian then began to think about how his wife _still _pressured herself about her weight. For she was always on a diet, and was always eating a salad for every meal instead of a steak or a good cheeseburger. It was something Brian chose to live with, and has accepted that this was the best she was going to get to becoming better.

When Debbie quit her modeling career, she became obsessed with politics as if it was her religion. She was always gone, and she was always late to come home. Brian hardly ever saw her anymore, and was always alone at home when he came home from work. It wasn't until one day, she announced happily to Brian that she was pregnant. But much to his dismay, he knew that the two of them haven't had sex in over four months.

He didn't say anything until after their son was born, who was named Christopher. Debbie explained to him how her partner with politicians seduced her until she couldn't resist anymore. She said she was sorry and that it was only a one time thing. Brian didn't care, for he knew he didn't love her anymore. Because all he saw in front of him was a pathetic, manipulative woman who would do anything to make everyone happy.

He called Christopher his own, and decided to drop everything about his wife's affair for Christopher's sake. For he wanted the boy to have a normal life. With two parents in a nice home who loved him very much.

Two years later, Debbie became pregnant again. And this time, it was Brian's. For one drunken night they shared, which felt like an old one. Brian was more excited this time, and more happy. He was even happier when they were going to be having twin girls .

Him and Debbie were finally coming back to normal. They were finally having a healthy relationship again, and Brian even thought that he was falling back in love with her. They would stay up all night with Christopher and think of baby girl names together. The three of them finally came up with two that seemed the most right to fit. And that was Julianna and Annabeth.

When Debbie was in labor, everyone was ecstatic. Even Debbie, who was in so much pain that she could barely breath. As she pushed and pushed, she held on to Brian's hand as if it was her only clutch from keeping her alive. "Push!" The doctors exclaimed altogether. "I see a head! Keep pushing!"

Debbie pushed and pushed as Brian encouraged her by her side. But it wasn't until the doctor looked as if it was holding their baby, and looked down on it with sad, sad eyes. He looked down at the baby girl, and then back at Debbie and Brian, who were wild with worry. "What?" Brian demanded. "What is it? What's wrong with her?"

The doctor shook his head and handed the baby girl to another doctor, who sadly walked away to another room.

"No!" Debbie screamed. "Where are you going with my baby?"

"Mrs. Johnson," The doctor firmly commanded. "You have another baby to deliver. So please concentrate on that. I know it is hard, but please. Just focus on the other baby, for it's own sake."

Brian had tears rolling down his cheeks, for he knew what happened to his first baby girl. She was stillborn. "You can do this," He encouraged his wife. He kissed her on the head, "You can, you can. I promise you can."

Debbie shook her head as she sobbed like a mad woman, "No," She wailed like a screaming banshee. "I can't… I can't without my other baby…. Where is she? Where's Julianna? She needs to be with her mother!"

It took seven more hours for Debbie to have the strength to deliver her next baby girl, who indeed turned out to be more than perfect. For when both Debbie and Brian heard a loud pitch scream of wails, they sighed in relief.

When Debbie held her daughter in her arms, she looked down at it with such love and concern. Yet, Brian knew that she wanted to hold her other baby just as much. The doctors allowed her to hold both of her babies. The deceased one, and the healthy one. She continuously kissed both of their foreheads, both of their little noses, and both of their little lips.

Brian will never forget the pain that he felt in his heart when his wife simply looked up at him and said, "I don't think I can let her go, Brian."

That was the moment when Brian realized that he was still madly in love with his wife. For she was still the same sweet person underneath her hard exterior. And as he looked at her, and kissed her tears away as they both looked down at their babies, he knew he'd never love anyone else the same.

It was a bright Sunday morning when Brian received a letter in the mail about his upcoming high school reunion. It was Annabeth who collected the mail, since it was her turn to do it. For she came into the kitchen while Brian was eating his regular morning breakfast, Cheerios and toast.

"Dad, these have your name on it." Annabeth, who was now sixteen, said as she tossed the multiple letters, which were mostly bills, down in front of her father.

"If they're bills, burn them." Brian teased. "We already have enough with you and your brother's messaging bills."

"Dad," Annabeth laughed. "Stop saying _messaging_, it's just _text messaging. _With the T-E-X-T. When you just say _messaging_, you just sound like a creepy pervert who stalks twelve year old boys on the internet."

Brian rolled his eyes and went through his mail. He tossed the bills aside, to save them for later. It wasn't until he came across a creamy white envelope with an imprint of the Shermer High School signature. "Good lord," Brian breathed from under his breath as he read the name that happened to be his that was written on the envelope. "This is from my old high school."

Christopher, who was now eighteen, then came striding in. "Guess you finally got your SAT scores back, huh, Dad?" He teased as he grabbed the orange juice carton and brought it to his lips.

"Glass," Brian pointed out. "And Ha-Ha, very funny.  
He then opened to envelope, and read over it. Debbie walked in right then, looking just as lovely as ever. She kissed Annabeth on the forehead and patted Christopher on the shoulder. "What's that?" She asked her husband once she noticed that he was reading something very distinctly.

Brian looked up, "Um, I got an invitation for my annual high school reunion."

Debbie beamed, "Oh! How wonderful! Are you going to go?"

"Where did Dad even go to high school?" Annabeth asked as she sipped at her orange juice quietly. She refused to eat breakfast in the mornings for some reason. She always preferred orange juice over everything.

"Shermer, sweetie." Debbie answered. "You've never been there, it's about three hours away from where we are."

"Are you going to go?" Christopher asked as he sat down beside of Brian with his own bowl of Cheerios. To not be his son, Christopher looked a whole lot like Brian himself. He was very tall, but more muscular than he had been. His shoulders were wider and his hair was lighter. He had darker eyes, which he must have inherited from his real father.

Yet, he did look like he could be Annabeth's full blooded sister. For they both shared the fair complexion and dotted freckles that dashed a bit across their noses. Both of their hair was sun bleached blonde, and all natural. They were beautiful children who were given compliments all of the time, even now with both of them being teenagers.

"I don't know," Brian replied, trailing off with his words. "It seems like a waste of time, don't you think? For me to drive three whole hours just to see people who I use to hate? Yeah, that sounds like a real blast of fun if you ask me."

"Oh, Brian," Debbie scolded softly. "I think it'd be good for you. I think it will make you feel a whole lot better about yourself. You'll realize how good of a job you have and how good of a family you got."

"I already know that, Debbie." Brian said.

"I didn't mean it like that…" Debbie replied shyly. "I meant…"

"I know what you meant, Deb," Brian said, standing up. He then kissed her on the head, along with his two children. "I gotta head for work. See you all when I get home!"

As he said his goodbyes to his perfect family, he hopped in his SUV and took off on the road so that he could head to his work. And on the way there, he couldn't help but think about his original high school experience, and how much he hated it. He thought about the times when he was constantly picked on, and ragged on for every little thing. He thought about how stressed he was about his grades. So stressed that he even tried to kill himself over it. But one important thought was leading to the library of his very first Saturday detention.

And as he thought of that particular Saturday, he wondered to himself if the four of them would happen to show up to that class reunion too.

**A/N: I hope you liked it! I worked VERY hard on this, so I hope it's worth your time! PLEASE leave me some reviews! I love, love, love to read them all! Good or bad! Thank you so much! XxX**


	2. The Athlete & The Basketcase

**A/N: Andrew & Allison's chapter! Yay! This chapter has probably been to most difficult one so far since I already wrote a couple of more that I just haven't published to this story yet. I've decided to make a sequel after this called 'The Getaway' and it will be about The Breakfast Club's children and how they will all come together just like their parents did. **

Andrew and Allison Clark weren't the very thing to talk about much. Since they did live in the exact same town they grew up in, in a very dull house on a very dull street in a very dull neighborhood. Both of them would be lying to themselves if they said that they were happy. Andrew and Allison lived a very boring live with very boring jobs. Allison worked as an accountant for a bank that rarely had any business. And Andrew worked as being the Shermer High School's wrestling coach, which was one of the only few things in his life that he actually liked to do.

But the one thing that Andrew and Allison shared in common that they both loved, was their fifteen year old daughter. Izabelle Clara Clark was her name, and she was one of the quietest girls you would ever come across. With her long dark hair and her beautiful brown eyes that she would always lower when she would walk by, she tried her best to stay out of people's attention span.

She was a single child, yet her parents gave her so much love to replace the empty spot if she happened to even have a sibling in the past or even the future to come. Yet, she never recalled a time where her and her parents did anything together. Since she was little, Andrew and Allison had an uncomfortable distance that grew between them that even little Izabelle could sense as a child of five or six years old.

Her mother would always take her shopping, or try to take her to a movie that they both wanted to see once in a while. And her father was her television buddy. For they would both always sit down together on a Friday night and watch some television or watch a new movie neither of them has seen before, while her mother rested in her room.

And yes, Allison and Andrew did have separate rooms. Sometimes Izabelle wondered to herself why they didn't just get a divorce to make it easier on everybody, but she then realized that her mom and dad were probably just sticking the whole thing out for her. Never have she seen her parents kiss expect in old photographs taken when they were teenagers. Izabelle didn't even really want to ask her parents about their relationship, due to more heartbreak in the family.

At school, she was constantly picked on. People said that she was too skinny and too nerdy looking. Andrew remember her coming home one time crying one afternoon. "The other girls are spreading nasty rumors, Daddy," She sobbed into his chest. "Spreading rumors to the boys saying that... that I..."

Andrew knew exactly what she was talking about. Because he was in junior high and high school once before, and nothing ever seemed to change in that weird dimension. Hell, he remembered making fun of Allison with his friends behind of her back. But he didn't like to think back to those days where he was that kind of person. For he would always feel a tingle of guilt inside of his heart that was aching to be let loose throughout his entire body.

But when he held his crying little girl, and thought about how he used to do this to people when he was in high school, he couldn't even think about it. For Izabelle was his little girl, his baby. No matter how old she got, and he never liked to see her upset. The day he went to the principal's office after work to discuss over the matters, he thought back to Allison's pregnancy with Izabelle. She was terrified, and didn't know what to do.

With Allison's awful anxiety and depression, it was a very hard pregnancy. Even after she gave birth to Izabelle, Allison went into a horrible post partum depression that lasted for weeks at a time. But Andrew remember how he didn't really care much about worrying over his wife. For when he held his new baby in his arms, there was no feeling to overcome that at all. Even in words, Andrew could never describe how it was to hold your very first child in your arms as it looks up at you with loving and hopeful eyes. All you can think about is how much you want to protect it, and how much you want it to know you love it more than anything in the world.

Allison did grow close to Izabelle after the post partum depression thankfully. If anything, Izabelle made Allison healthier. It was Izabelle that made Allison want to get up in the mornings. It was Izabelle who always made Allison want to get out of the house, so that she could show off her new daughter. Izabelle changed Allison in so many ways, that Andrew secretly thought that Allison's depression and even some of her anxiety went away altogether.

But sadly, he was wrong. When Izabelle was four, their relationship flipped over to a whole new different direction. Allison was staying out late at nights, always claiming that she had to work late since it was during the Christmas season. Andrew understood that, and thought nothing about it. But it wasn't until one Friday night when he fell asleep, that he was awoken by a drunken Allison striding through the door.

She bumped into something, and began to giggle like a mad schoolgirl. Andrew walked out of the bedroom they shared together, and walked into the hallway to find his wife leaning against the wall laughing hysterically at nothing in particular.

"Where the hell have you been?" Andrew hissed at her. "Do you realize that it's 2 AM, and you're coming home as drunk as a sailor?"

Allison laughed even louder, as she threw her head back wildly. She didn't say anything though, she just stood there like an idiot and laughed. Andrew walked over to her and shook her shoulders until her eyes rolled back to the back of her eyelids. "Where have you been, God damn it?" He yelled at her. She didn't answer, all she was doing was holding back her upcoming giggles and chuckles. "My God," Andrew hissed. "You've been doing this for the past week, haven't you?"

Allison replied with a small squeak of a chuckle. Andrew looked at her in disgust, and pushed her away from him. "I can't believe you would do this," Andrew said as if he just swallowed bitter medicine. "And especially with Izabelle in the house asleep..."

The sound of Izabelle's name seemed to knock at least some sense into Allison's head. For she just stood there, not smiling or giggling childishly anymore as her husband walked away from her. "I think it's best if you sleep in the guest room tonight," He said harshly. He then muttered, "For all I care."

The next morning, Allison woke up early enough to feed Izabelle and to put her back down for her nap around lunch time. It wasn't until after one, when Izabelle was asleep, where Andrew and Allison had a chance to talk about the night before.

"I just want to know why," Andrew said in a helpless tone. "I mean, I understand wanting to have a break and to simply have a shot to take the edge off. But for a whole week? And with your history of alcohol? And most importantly, you lying to me."

A tear ran down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. "I haven't been happy in a long time, Andrew." Allison confessed to her husband. "Ever since Izabelle was born, I've changed. Andy..." More tears began to fall from her eyes, as she buried her face into both of her hands and sobbed. "My heart is dying."

Andrew then knew that that was the moment when he fell out of love with his wife. After that, he made a deal with her that the two would just drop the matter and go on with their life. But their life together as husband and wife was never the same after that. Allison decided to officially stay in the guest room, and had fun decorating it just like she wanted it. They both had sex with different people, and they both knew it. But the only thing that kept them together was watching Izabelle grow. And during that process, the two learned to respect each other other than husband and wife, but as a parent.

But watching their freshman daughter go through a difficult time at high school, Allison and Andrew couldn't help but discuss the matter from time to time. Yet, it wasn't until one day when Izabelle returned home from school when things began to turn differently in Andrew Clark's head. "Hey, Izzy," Andrew said as his daughter walked through the door.

"How was school, hun?" Allison asked as she made her way into the living room to read one of her favorite Home Journal magazines. "It was okay," Izabelle shrugged slightly as she made her way into the living room to drop off her books and backpack.

"Anything new happened today?" Andrew asked from across the hall as he texted the woman he was sleeping with, Cynthia. "Actually," Izabelle started out. "There was something that caught my attention today. Weren't you two the class of 86' or 85', or something like that?"

Andrew sighed as he walked into the living room, "Class of '85," He said in a nostalgic kind of voice. "Why?"

Izabelle shrugged, "I just heard there was going to be an upcoming reunion next weekend." She then paused to look at both of her parents. "Are you guys gonna go?"

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but Allison ended up speaking for him. "Probably not, honey," She said calmly. "Unless, your father would like the go by himself."

Andrew was taken aback by his wife's suggestion, and even felt a little annoyed and hurt by her sarcastic bite at the words that were meant to go to him. "Uh," Andrew started out. "I don't know. I guess it would be nice to catch up on some lost time with my wrestling buddies."

Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew could see Allison roll her eyes after he said _wrestling buddies_. Izabelle nodded, "Yeah," She said as she turned on the television. "You should go. The invitation is probably out in the mail."

Sure enough, it was. About an hour later, Andrew's curiosity got the best of him. He ended up checking the mail an hour after he talked to his daughter about the reunion. He saw his and Allison's name on the envelope and tore it open. He looked over the words, and sure enough it was his reunion. It would be held in the cafeteria and in the gym from 5pm - 10pm.

Five hours? Andrew thought curiously. What could a person do at a reunion for five hours? Andrew Clark was about to find out very soon.

**A/N: I know this chapter isn't as long as my first one was, but I hope you liked it! I had a hard time deciding about Andrew and Allison's relationship for this chapter. At first, I was going to make Allison horribly mental while Andrew and her shared three children together. But I couldn't imagine Allison handling three children, due to the way she acts. I feel like one is enough. And isn't Izabella sweet?! I love writing about her! After this story, I might even do one just about their kids and how they all get together! I already wrote John Bender's chapter, so all I have to do now is Claire's! Please review, follow, favorite, whatever! I love reading reviews! Good or bad! Thank you! xXx**


	3. The Princess

**A/N: Okay, I'm just warning you here. This chapter is kind of rough. It involves rape, physical abuse, and mental abuse. Don't say I didn't warn you in your reviews! I really like writing about Claire and her daughter, Deirdre!**

"Faster, Deirdre, faster!" Claire yelled at her daughter as she clapped her hands into the rythym where her daughter was doing her ballet jumps. Deirdre stopped out of defeat, and looked helplessly at her mother. "Mom," She breathed out as she put both of her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. "I can't. We've been practicing for hours. Can't we just go home?"

Claire sighed and stood up, "I guess." She said in defeat. "But don't expect another sweet for a reward this week. And definitely no soda either, missy."

Deirdre glared at her mother when she wasn't looking, and followed her out of the dance studio and out into the car. Even though her mother hasn't took dance lessons since she was eighteen, she thought that she ran every single bit of Deirdre's home life, personal life, _and _dance life.

Sitting down in the car, Deirdre was matted with sweat from head to toe. Her leotard was sticking to her like a second layer of skin, while her legs itched from the sweat running down her legs from inside her tights. "Right when you get home, take a shower." Claire said as she began to back out of the dance studio and on to the main road. "And then I want you to start on your homework. You know how dancing can take your mind off of some things, Dee. I don't want you to lose your concentration."

Deirdre just nodded in agreement with her mother, since she was just too worn out to fight with her. Claire, her mother, was a beautiful woman. Never did she leave the house without her hair styled and her face made up to look like a china doll.

While Claire tried to teach her only daughter the same method, Deirdre did complete her mother's fulfillment. She _was _the queen bee at school, and everyone knew it. With her caramel brown eyes and her ebony brown hair that reached just above her breasts, she was the most beautiful girl in school and she knew it. She had curves like no other, and was never insecure about her weight.

Unlike Claire, who desperately wanted her to lose about thirty pounds or so. Yet, Deirdre always refused.

Claire thought about her daughter's weight as she was driving herself and her daughter home. She was gaining more weight, but in a good kind of way. She was thicker than Claire had been when she was just sixteen years old, that was for sure. She was just trying to do what was best for her. She wanted her to have an excellent dancing career with an excellent backup plan to major in business or some other sort similar.

Claire Hamilton, married to Greg Hamilton. She met Greg when she was just twenty two while she was out exploring Paris on a vacation with her brother. Greg was seven years her senior, but still, she fell head over heels. The first time they both had sex was a the night of their wedding day. And a week later, she realized that she was pregnant with Deirdre. Thankfully, Greg was very happy. While Claire was just nervous.

Yet, Claire, who always came off as the hard bitch type, really was anything but. She wanted to push her daughter towards greater things in life. Greater things that Claire herself hasn't even accomplished before. She wanted her daughter to do things by her talent and by her mind, and not by her money. Even though the Hamilton family was, and will always be, filthy rich with money that will last them until the day the last Hamilton on earth dies.

Claire hated to fight with her daughter, because she knew how much she could hate her at times. But now, with Claire driving her daughter home, she could feel the anger boiling into her daughter's heart.

"Darling," Claire simply sighed. "I know I come off as a horrible mother sometime, but I am only trying to motivate you to doing your best."

Deirdre rolled her eyes, "Motivation and forcing are two completely different things, Mom. I use to love to dance before you _forced _me to try and get better."

Claire bit her tongue, trying her best not to say anything to make her daughter yell and scream at her and call her a pathetic excuse for a mother. Claire said absolutely nothing as she pulled into the driveway of their huge house and got out with her daughter. Deirdre was about five steps in front of her as she rushed into the house and ran upstairs to lock herself into her room that every teenage girl dreamed of having.

"Darling," Greg soothingly said as he walked up to embrace his wife. Claire didn't say anything, but she felt kind of funny watching her husband not even notice that his only daughter was running up the stairs to lock herself in her room and cry. Greg pulled Claire into a hug as his lips brushed against her collarbone and neck. He then began to kiss it, softly at first. But with each kiss, it just kept getting wilder and wilder. Claire then realized that he was slightly intoxicated.

"Not tonight," She managed to say as he pawed at her breast with his hand. "Deirdre's upset..."

Greg didn't stop though, he just kept kissing her and caressing her. "She's fine, honey. She's fine." He said in between his raspy kisses. "Just the usual teenage hormones..." Greg then began to slide his hand down Claire's breasts and down to her thigh. That was when Claire pushed him off of her and glared at him. "Gregory, I do _not _have time for this!" She scolded. "You need to go to bed and sleep this off immediately! The last thing I want is Deirdre seeing you like this!"

Greg let out a hoarse, drunken laugh. "Oh, really?" He yelled so loud that it echoed off of the walls. "Why go to sleep when I can do this?" He then began to grab and touch Claire, or at least try to. Claire began to beat on his chest as she tried her best to fight him off. But it was no use. She finally kneed him in the groin, which made him hunch over to moan and groan in complete pain. "You fucking bitch!" He cried out.

Tears were streaming helplessly down Claire's eyes as she stood there with her blouse ripped open, exposing her revealed bra. Her skirt looked like a cat clawed at it, while her usually neatly styled hair and face looked like she just fell into a ditch. Her lipstick was smeared while mascara was running down her cheeks. "You sorry son of a bitch!" She yelled at him. She then attempted to kick him, but it was too late now. Greg was back on his feet. When her leg was up in the air so that she could try and kick him down, Greg grabbed her leg and watched her fall down.

Greg then climbed on top of her, and kissed her chest with his disgusting wet lips. He practically pinned her down to the floor so hard, that she couldn't even move an inch. Greg then pulled down her skirt, and then her panties. And like an animal, he thrusted himself inside of her. Claire screamed and tried to fight him off, yet he didn't even budge. Claire cried and cried, yet she tried her best not to scream too loud. Because this was the last thing she wanted her daughter to see.

When Greg was done, he stood back up while he left Claire on the ground. He zipped his pants and smirked. "Wasn't that bad, was it?" He hissed drunkenly. "Oh," He then said, picking up something beside of the little table next to the door. "The mail came today," He said as he threw all of the mail on top of Claire, who was laying there numbly in the middle of the floor.

Greg then turned and left so that he could probably have another drink in his office alone. It seemed like an eternity for Claire to just lay in the floor like that. She stared up at the ceiling, and counted each and every single crack. When she finally had enough energy to sit up, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

At the top of the staircase, there hid Deirdre behind the pole of the stairs. She was peeking out, terrified. Tears were streaming down her face while her lip was trembling terribly. Claire's face took on a look of pure horror. "No..." She whispered to herself. "Oh, God..." Claire started to get up, but Deirdre took off to her room quicker than ever as she cried out with her tears.

Claire, sat there numbly, crying. She then began to pick up the mail in a neat stack on her lap. But it wasn't until she came across a letter with her name imprinted on it. Trying to get her mind off of things, she began to open it slowly with her shaking hands. As she scanned over the letter with her eyes full of tears, she almost sighed in relief. A reunion. She could find one of her old friends again. Become close with them again. Maybe she could live with them until she could have a place of her own with Deirdre.

Since all of the money was all of Greg's, Claire as an individual was broke. Both of her parents were dead, and her brother didn't have a single penny to his name anymore. Nothing was left for her, and the rest of her parents' money paid off all of their past debts.

She had to find her old friends, and tell them what kind of situation she was in. Surely, they would understand. Surely...

**A/N: I know this chapter was kind of rough, but I think it was an important part of Claire's and Deirdre's homelife. And I know it's stupid to be thinking that your past best friends from high school would take you and your daughter in. But you have to think about it from Claire's point of view. She's desperate. She's being horribly abused. She has no where to go, no money to her name. She has no living family either. But who knows? Maybe her and John will catch up at the reunion if she decides to go ;) And Claire is a very strong individual, and I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! XoX**


	4. The Criminal

**A/N: And finally... for what most of you have been waiting for! Bender! Yay! This chapter was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy!**

"Dad!" Seventeen year old Danny Bender yelled out as he was lying on his bed with his phone in one hand. No reply from his father, John Bender. Danny groaned out in annoyance, "Dad! I need to talk to you!"

He then heard footsteps coming from the little hallway. John opened the door to his only son's room. "Yeah?" He asked in clear annoyance. His hair was wet and the only thing he was wearing was a towel around his waist, since he just got out of the shower.

"Marcie wants to know if you can drop me off at the bowling alley tonight so that we can hang out." Danny said, barely looking up from his very cheap prepaid flip phone.

"And why can't her mom pick you up?" John asked sarcastically as he leaned against the doorframe. Danny sighed, "You know Marcie's mom, Dad."

John sighed in agreement, for he knew how big of a drunk Marcie's mother was. "Fine," He replied. "But I'm expecting you to actually be home at your curfew."

Danny nodded in agreement, which made John chuckle a bit as he walked across the little hallway to his room to get dressed.

Marcie was Danny's girlfriend, and she was trailer garbage, just like them. Or at least, that's what John likes to secretly refers about everyone in the nearby trailer parks. For him and his son, Danny, live in the rattiest one in town. With only one truck, which was John's for work, and Danny's bicycle that he's too embarrassed to ride anymore for some reason.

John would never forget the disappointment he felt ringing throughout his heart when his son was so excited to get his license, and yet John couldn't afford to buy him a car of his very own. Yes, sometimes he let Danny take the truck out. But if he ever gave a reason not to, like to go to the bowling alley, it was just because he couldn't afford to buy a new car if it was wrecked or damaged in any particular way.

But Danny was a smart boy. He made average grades in school, which were the usual A's, B's, and C's. And maybe even the occasional F's or D's. But to see his son actually work in school was enough to make John the proudest father of the trailer park.

Since it was just Danny and him, he tried his best to give him the best life possible. Even if it meant living in a shitty trailer park in a shitty trailer with a shitty everything. But they were clean. They weren't those hermits who never cleaned their houses or let animal hair shed on all of the furniture. John always taught Danny to fold his clothes back up and to tidy up after himself. Since Julia left, he had to teach Danny everything.

Julia was Danny's mother, who left when he was only six years old. When John asked her why and where she was going, all she said was, "I've had enough, I've just had enough. I need a break. I'll come back soon, I promise." She then leaned down to kiss little Danny on the forehead and gave him a big hug. Back then, Danny didn't think nothing of it. But after three weeks have passed, they both know that she would never come back to the shitty trailer park they were forced to call home.

So, that left John and Danny all to themselves. John never thought he would take on the role as an 'All American Father', yet he seemed to surprise himself. He loved his kid more than anything he has loved before. He remembered how he use to roll his eyes at people loving and pinching little children's cheeks, thinking why would anyone want to baby a kid. Because he thought they were just like little people, with smaller brains, and dumber personalities. Yet, when he had his own, that all changed.

When Julie announced to John that she was pregnant with his baby, he didn't really know what to say. For he was on the torn up sofa, eating popcorn and watching a football game. He was speechless, and didn't know how to react. Happy? Surprised? Mad? Hell, he didn't know anything. He just read the expression on his wife's face, which was a mixture of happiness and worry. He then nodded and smiled at her, "That's great."

Over the years, when Julie was pregnant with Danny, she forced him to take anger management classes. He thought it was all a joke at first. Yet, he did understand why Julie would want him to take the classes so bad. For they fought often. And they were always rough, rude, and loud fights that would last on and on for what seemed to be hours at a time.

But when Julie talked him into taking the classes, the _free_ classes, all John caught himself doing was thinking about his baby. He thought about when _he _was a baby. Or at least, as far back as he could remember as to being a baby. Which was probably around the age of three, maybe even two. He thought about the time his mom sat him in the floor in front of his dad's recliner as he played with his blocks.

He looked up at his dad and said, "Daddy, do you wanna play blocks with me?"

His dad didn't look away from the television. Instead, he just waved his hand off as if to dismiss John to a different state of mind. "Daddy's busy," He said a little too harshly. "Ask the whore in the kitchen, she'll want to."

When John was officially dressed, he then poked his head into his son's door one more time. "If you want to hop in the shower, you better do it now." He said. Since so many people use the hot water system in the entire trailer park, it was kind of hard to enjoy a nice hot shower. It was kind of like showering at a campground. But still, they both couldn't really complain. It was all they ever really knew.

Danny nodded and ran his hand through his thick brown hair. He then stood up, and was about to head out the door. Except, something out the window caught his eye. Danny's dark eyes double looked as if he was seeing right. Because in their front yard of dead, wheat grass, stood a man in a very expensive looking suit. He was looking up at the trailer with curious eyes, as his hand was over his eyes as if he was trying to block out the sun.

"Uh, Dad," Danny called out as he still spied on the strange man who looked like the president. "Yeah?" John replied.

"There is a... a man outside, looking at our house. He looks like he works for a company or a bank..." Danny lost his trail of words. He then turned to look at his father from behind his shoulder. "You did pay all of the bills didn't you?"

"Of course I fucking did," John encountered as he went to stand beside of his son so that he, too, could see this man for himself. He looked at the man, and a strange wave of nostalgia washed over him for a strange reason. Who the fuck was that? John thought. But then it hit him. "Holy fucking shit," John cursed. He then walked quickly out of his son's room while Danny was left behind saying, "What? Who is that, Dad?"

John turned around, "It's... It's no one to be concerned over, trust me. Go take your shower while you still have some hot water."

John then pivoted out into the hallway and out the front door. He stood there on his little wooden porch for a moment, as the two men stared at each other.

"John," The man said, walking up to him. John glanced at his shiny black mercedes that was parked in his extra parking space. He then thought to himself how that was probably going to be the nicest car that would and will ever be in John's front yard. "John Bender!" The man exclaimed with a coy, welcoming smile on his face. He then walked up the steps and onto the porch where John was standing. The man held out his hand, "It sure has been a long time, hasn't it?" John shook it as he looked at the man uncertainly. "It sure as hell has been." He replied. "If it isn't Mr. Brian Fucking Johnson."

Brian let out a laugh, "You haven't changed a bit have you?"

John shrugged, "It seems like you have." He then motioned towards the nice mercedes. Brian let out kind of a playful sigh, "Guess my nerdy days were the ones that were actually worth it, I guess."

"So, what brings you here, Johnson?" John asked nonchalantly as he leaned against the pathetic wooden railing of his porch. Brian then made that same surprised look on his face, just like he always did when he was a teenager. "Oh," Brian said as he began to fish out something in his coat pocket. That was when he pulled out an envelope with the Shermer High School signature imprint. He smiled, and handed it to John.

John took it, "Is this about my son?"

"Your son?" Brian said curiously. "You have a son?"

"Yes," John said sarcastically as he held the letter in his hand. "He goes to Shermer, he's a junior. Oh, and do you happen to have an envelope opener?"

John rolled his eyes and opened the letter. He scanned through the words and literally let out a laugh, "A reunion?"

"Well, yeah," Brian replied with a shrug. "I thought that..."

"Thought what?" John interrupted.

"I thought that... all of us... could, like, get together again."

John bit his lip, for he knew what Brian was talking about. But he didn't really want to put it in his own words. "Together again? Together with who?" John asked.

"With _whom_," Brian corrected.

"How about you shut the hell up and tell me with _whom_, Johnson." John said, half smiling. Brian rolled his eyes, "The fucking Breakfast club, John."

John didn't say anything, he just stood there with the letter in hand. Brian backed up and began to walk down the stairs and to his car. "Just think about it," He called out. "It'd be nice to catch up."

And as John stood on the porch and watched old Brian Johnson drive away, all he could think about was a certain red head that he wouldn't mind catching up with.

**A/N: I really loved John and Brian's awkward friendship in the movie, and I thought it would be great for the lovely Brian to show up to his old pal's house! That sounds like him too! Haha! I hope you all enjoyed! More will be coming very soon! The actual reunion is about to happen too! Yay! :)**


End file.
